I Didn't Mean To
by iviscrit
Summary: A nine-year-old Tom Riddle tries to figure out his mysterious abilities. Why, then, did he kill Eric Whalley's pet? Oneshot, with a sequel in the works. Please R&R!


Happy 4th of July to any American readers! I'll be singing patriotic songs all day. And on an unrelated note, I hope you enjoy this fic! I tried to write Tom as a nine-year-old kid. Tell me how I did!

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The fish wouldn't talk to him.

He had been puzzled ever since the yearly trip to the country, because a snake had slithered up to him and talked to him. It was a green and red snake, green on the top and a reddish underbelly, and it had seen him and slithered right over. The other orphans had scattered in a heartbeat, but that's because they didn't understand what it had said. "Hi there," it had said. "May I talk with you?" He could talk to it without thinking about it, and that confused him more. Sometimes, Mrs. Cole would use French phrases- a la mode, she'd say, if there were new clothes coming to the orphanage, or au revoir, if she was saying goodbye. He had asked her about it, once, and she had told him that French was a different language, very different from the English that they spoke.

"How do you know French, then?" he had asked her. "When I'm old like you, will I know French too?"

"Silly boy! You don't grow and learn languages by magic! You have to work and learn 'em in school."

So it was confusing that he could speak snake languages -because not all snakes spoke the same way- without having ever been to school to learn about them. And he wasn't about to tell Mrs. Cole what he had discovered. He had learned better than to tell people _too_ much about what he could do, just enough so people were impressed but not curious to find out how they could do it too. He thought maybe he could speak to all creatures with scales, because the frogs wouldn't answer him when he spoke to them. He wanted to try lizards next, because the way they stuck out their tongues reminded him of snakes when they talk to him, and maybe they were just very quiet since they were so small. He hadn't seen any lizards in the orphanage, but Eric Whalley had found a fish in the river, a small little shiny thing whose scales shone in the sun from the dingy window like a coat of mail. He wanted the fish, because it reminded him of the knights in the books he had started reading. The knights always looked better than everyone else, but they were never smart like the wizards and lords. He wanted one knight to be a lord, a wizard, _and_ a knight, so he could cast spells and rule the land all while wearing the shining mail.

But the fish had scales like a snake, more importantly, and it swam by moving its body side to side like snakes do, even though it used its fins. So maybe if he could convince it that he would be a better owner than Eric, he could keep it and say that the fish wanted to go with him. When Eric wasn't there he crept into the room, and tried speaking to the fish.

"Hello." Blink. Blink.

"My name's Tom. Tom Riddle." Blink. Swish-swish-breathe.

He frowned. Maybe he'd wait and let the language come out on its own. Sometimes, when he met a snake who didn't understand the snake language he could speak to himself, the snake would talk first and he could answer back without thinking about it. Snakes were like people, sometimes. Once, a gentleman came to the orphanage, and gave Mrs. Cole money. He spoke differently from them, but it was English all the same. But his was clear and bright and sharp, none of the dropped consonants and twang like his and the others at the orphanage. After that, he tried to talk like that man. And when he met snakes that spoke his snake language, but with a different accent, he'd try and learn it. Mostly those snakes were from fairs, or from far away, they'd tell him. Maybe the fish was from far away too. Maybe he had moved to the river very recently.

The fish didn't talk. It just looked at him with big eyes and blinked. Sometimes it would swim to the top of the bowl and gulp air before coming back down to look at him. He began to get angry with the fish for refusing to talk with him.

"Who's there?"

Eric walked in. Eric had already turned ten, so he was a big boy now. He wouldn't be happy with a younger kid in his room, looking at the fish without permission. "What are you doing to my fish, Tom?"

"Talking to him. He doesn't talk to _you_, does he?" He said it without thinking, and to be mean, as if Eric wasn't worth talking to.

"He's a fish, stupid. He doesn't talk. Leastways, not to people. Maybe he talks to other fish. And if he does it's too quiet for you to hear."

"Maybe he understands me. Maybe fish only talk to certain people, like snakes do."

Eric laughed, and Tom felt himself growing angry. "Snakes don't talk to people at all! That's the dumbest thing I've heard. You pretend you can talk to snakes, don't you, Tom?"

He felt his anger rising and his face growing hot. "I don't pretend."

"Yes, you do. In the country you played with the snake and you pretended you were talking to him. And after that you talk to every snake you find outside in the tall grass over the way." Eric snickered. "Do they ever talk back?"

What would hurt Eric? What would really, really hurt him? Maybe he could knock him down... but then Eric might be too fast for him, and if he lost it would be worse. Maybe he could get back at him later... but then it wouldn't make up for how he felt now. Maybe...

He didn't mean to. But the water in the little bowl that held the fish froze suddenly, freezing the fish in place with it. He was used to things like this happening around him. It happened a lot, when he was sad or scared or angry or happy. But he was getting better at making it happen only when he wanted it to happen. Maybe speaking to snakes was magic. No one ever heard the snakes answer back- but they always heard him speak. Hearing voices no one else could hear was magic, according to Mrs. Cole. 'Devil's magic,' she called it, but any kind of magic was good. It made him different. Different from Mrs. Cole who had to go to school to learn French, and different from Eric who had to catch animals with traps rather than make them do what he wanted with his mind.

"What did you do to him?" Eric cried, and ran to the fish bowl, unable to believe the fish was frozen in place.

"Move." He frowned hard, and the ice melted. Eric clapped his hands in relief, but his face fell and he started to howl again as the water turned too hot. Steam began to rise from it, and the fish drifted into the side of the bowl and sank to the bottom. It didn't get back up, even when he stopped and made the water go back to normal. He shrugged at Eric, who was near tears and terrified, besides being upset that his fish was dead. "I didn't mean to," he said.

"What is going _on_ here, boys?" Mrs. Cole said, having run up the stairs at Eric's screams.

"I changed the water for Eric but I made it too hot," he explained, since he wasn't about to let Eric say what had happened. Eric didn't look as though he could talk anyway. "You can't change temperature for fish like that, can you?"

"No, Tom, you can't," Mrs. Cole said. "Learn from that. Take the fish and get rid of it for Eric. It's all right, boy, you can catch another fish!" she said to him sternly. "Tom, next time let others handle their own pets."

He nodded, and took the bowl to his room, room 27. He set it down and stared at it. Maybe he could only talk to snakes. But maybe he could use his magic to make his fish come back to life... wouldn't that be a surprise for Eric? And he could say it was _his_, because _he_ would bring it back. It didn't matter how much he tried, though, because he couldn't make the fish come alive again. So he snuck out the next day, and asked a snake what to do. He suggested finding a fish that looked exactly the same, and replacing the dead one. Then he could show Eric, and the boy would think he could not only make water freeze and steam and speak to snakes, but also raise the dead. And _that_ would shut him up for good. The snake -the one that had gotten him in trouble, when it said bad words and he asked Mrs. Cole what they meant- smiled at him and said "You're very shrewd, Tom" before it left.

"What is 'shrewd'?" he called after it, but it was gone. So he asked Mrs. Cole.

"It's like sly, snakelike, cunning," she said, "like you. Why did you do that to Eric's fish? Make it look like it died."

"I didn't mean to," he said. But back in his room with the replacement fish, he knew that if he had a chance to do it again to any animal, he would mean to.

**A/N: Are you CREEPED OUT? I enjoyed writing this during the wee hours. I really did. Message me if you want to know what event in my life this was based off of. And if you don't care, but still enjoyed the story, then review for me, and give me joy. :D **


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